


Spider-Man: The Coolest Guy in New York

by wjjmwmsn5



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Iron Dad is the best dad, Trans Peter Parker, a couple transphobic comments are said but nothing super bad, is there a tag for iron dad (if not it should be iron dad is the best dad)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 07:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wjjmwmsn5/pseuds/wjjmwmsn5
Summary: Peter has a really rough day and then goes out to fight some crime, and for once he's responsible and calls Tony. Iron Dad comes and cheers up his son.





	Spider-Man: The Coolest Guy in New York

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by eyethefluff on tumblr. My url is transpeterparkers. Hope you enjoy!

****Usually swinging from building to building and doing flips around the city as Spider-Man cheered Peter up instantly after a long day at school. Usually it was all he could do to wait until 2:45 when the bell rang and he could run out to get his patrol snack. But when the bell rang that day, after perhaps the trillionth time “Penis Parker” had been chanted or passed along in stupid notes as if they weren’t in high school now, Peter walked out of the school feeling dejected and tired.

He didn’t feel like losing his backpack on top of everything, so since he wasn’t in a rush for once, he went back home.

“You’re home early,” May commented when he walked in the door. He shrugged and she followed him down the hall from the kitchen. “Hey, what’s up? What’s wrong?”

“Just a bad day,” he explained. He didn’t want to talk to May, not right then at least. Maybe when he got home and blew off some steam, he would be more willing to open up. “I’m gonna go out if that’s okay.”

She bit her lip and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. _Be careful,_ ” she insisted.

Surprisingly, she didn’t give him The Speech.

Ever since she found out about his Spider-Man identity, she had started to routinely give him what he thought of as The Speech when he went out. It almost never varied, except when she saw on the news that something noteworthy happened, it grew in length. He hated worrying her like that, but she understood that he couldn’t give up his patrols now. And she had Tony on speed dial now, ready to call him immediately if something bad happened or if Peter didn’t answer her calls and texts.

She was pretty lenient, all things considered, but he still hated The Speech. So when he slipped free to his room without even a summary, it made him feel fractionally better.

He slipped into the suit and cracked open his door. “See you later,” he called. “I don’t think I’ll be out very late.”

“Please try not to be!” she called back. “I’m making spaghetti.” There was a pause as he headed over to his window. “Love you, Pete, be safe!”

“Love you too, Aunt May.”

He opened his window and slipped out, crawling between the windows up to the rooftop and looking out over his neighborhood. It was windy and it felt nice to stand atop a building. He felt like he was in a movie, and for a moment he pictured himself up there, the sun perfectly over him as he stood tall, with a movie logo on front and “Peter Parker” up top where they put the names of the actors in the movie. What would they call his movie? _Spider-Man: The Coolest Guy in New York._

He went to the edge of the roof and jumped off, shooting a web out to the building across the street and swinging out above the cars driving past. _Spider-Man: Look at Him Go._

He started to feel marginally better as he swung between buildings and eventually decided to walk across a tightrope of webbing between two buildings like he did when there wasn’t much crime out. He saw someone down below taking a video of him and he waved.

“Hey, Spider-Man!” the person called, their smartphone’s camera directed up at him. He grinned a little bit. He couldn’t help but enjoying it a little when people took little videos of him like this. It was exciting that the people trusted and liked their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, as Tony said.

He took that as his cue to swing out of the way, bored with the tightrope that he’d made. And anyway, he was sure that the person would feel like the video was a lot cooler if it included him shooting webs out and zipping away. _Spider-Man: The Hero of Queens._

The sun started to go down and he hadn’t happened upon anything villainous yet. He had a lot of homework, more than he could just do before bed or in the morning, and May wanted him home in time to eat spaghetti, so he figured it was probably time to head back. Plus, she had texted him half an hour ago and said, _When u coming home_. He had answered, _Soon, got a little farther out than I meant to, sorry,_ to which she had said, _Ok. Ur spaghetti is getting_ and then after that the snowflake emoji and a sad face. He could warm it up when he got home.

He took the long way back home, not quite ready to go back to being Peter Parker, and he was glad he did. On the way, he heard a bang back in an alley and felt a tingle go down the back of his spine. His eyes darted toward that dark area and he stuck to the wall that he had been swinging toward, which happened to be a building next to a bank.

That bank was about to get robbed. He didn’t know how he knew, but he could feel the fight coming like he was already slinging his webs at the criminals.

The last time he had tried to stop a robbing, things had gone horribly wrong. But the last time it happened, they weren’t just using regular weapons.

He could see that they weren’t armed with guns either. They had some of the leftovers from Liz’s dad’s operation in their hands. Peter crawled up to the roof so he could watch them without them seeing him, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. He didn’t want his eagerness to tear apart a building again. If he had learned anything from all that had happened, it was that there really were some fights he couldn’t handle on his own.

_Spider-Man: Peter Needs Help._

“Karen, can you call Mr. Stark, please?”

“Of course, Peter.”

He hoped to hell that he answered instead of letting it to go voicemail as he was wont to do. But after everything that happened the night of the dance, it seemed like Tony was trying a lot harder not to do that anymore. Which was nice, especially when Peter needed him to help with a bank robbery or two.

He anxiously tapped his fingers on his leg as the phone rang, thinking of more titles for his movie. Peter helping May cook: _Spider-Man: Dinnertime._ Peter watching Star Wars: _Spider-Man: Movie Time._ Peter the night of the dance: _Spider-Man: Homecoming._ Okay, so those three weren’t that good, but he was running out of titles.

“Hey, kid, what’s up?” Tony asked as he finally answered. “It’s kind of late. Don’t you have school in the morning?”

“It’s nine o’clock,” he said quietly, his eyes down on the robbers as they began their entry into the bank. He was itching to get down to them, but all of them were armed. He didn’t want to know what the two unfamiliar guns could do, and he certainly didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of them.

“Way past your bedtime.”

Peter huffed. “Mr. Stark, there’s a bank robbery and I could handle it myself but they have those fancy weapons and I thought I’d be responsible and let you know but if you want me to go home and go to bed then I’d be more than—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. The fancy weapons? Where are you?” Peter heard the sound of clanging, like he was getting into his suit as they spoke. It felt nice to be actively taken seriously.

Peter told him which bank he was next to as the robbers finally got inside from the door in the alley. It seemed like they didn’t understand the weapons they had in their possession as well as the Avengers robbers did, and they didn’t have the flare of wearing Avengers masks—instead just donning plain old black ski masks. Peter wasn’t angry, he was just disappointed.

After they hung up, Peter drummed his fingers on his leg, feeling helpless on the rooftop. He wasn’t going to stand back while Tony went after the four of them. He wanted to help, whether his adult approved or not. Well, okay, if his adult disapproved, he was an adult that could take his suit away, but he was sure that Tony understood Peter could handle this with backup from Iron Man.

It was only a couple of minutes before Tony arrived on the rooftop next to him, hovering for a second and then dropping down to the ground, his helmet opening to show that it was actually Tony there, and not just his suit.

“Hey,” Peter said. He turned toward the bank being robbed and pointed. “They just got in there maybe ten minutes ago.”

Tony nodded. “I’m glad you called me, Pete,” he said, stepping over and patting Peter on the back before lifting back into the air. He smiled a little bit under the mask, proud that Tony was proud.

Before he could fly off, Peter asked, “Can I help?”

Tony hesitated in the air before sighing. “Yeah, come on.”

Peter grinned and hurried over to the edge of the roof, shooting a web over to the next building and swinging down to the ground as Tony did the same. The door that the robbers had entered through was still slightly ajar, so the two of them went inside, Tony at the ready to blast someone and Peter at the ready to web them up.

“Stay away from the weapons, got it?” Tony said to him quietly as they walked through the lobby area, toward where it seemed that they were assuming the vault was. Peter nodded, just wanting to see a little bit of action after a long day, so long as it went well.

The vault had been blasted open by the alien tech that the four people had, and inside they were all filling bags with as much money as possible.

“Really, a bank robbery on a Tuesday?” Peter blurted out to them. He immediately wondered if Tony ever made comments during a fight the same way Peter did, but what was a fight without cool or sometimes maybe, admittedly, a little lame one-liners? They were his specialty, after all.

All four of them turned around, their eyes widening in their masks.

“Spider-Man?” one of them asked, his voice gruff and a little annoying. “I gotta say, I expected you to sound less like a girl.”

Tony raised his hand to that one in particular, but Peter just felt like someone had already punched him. No one ever bothered to comment on his voice while he was Spider-Man, except that one time in the car garage, but he had always thought that he did okay at sounding manly when he tried.

“I gotta say, with weapons like these, I expect bank robbers to be a little smarter,” Tony said mockingly. Peter still felt out of place and didn’t want to open his mouth, but that helped.

Peter’s spine tingled again and he looked at one of them, who was starting to point their fancy gun right at him. Before he could even fire, Tony noticed that it was straying away from him to Peter and shot it out of the guy’s hand. It clattered against the floor, smoking a bit, and Peter shot a web out to it, drawing it away from where the robbers could reach it. One down—or at least unarmed.

One of them shot at Tony with the weird gun that suspended Peter in midair when the Avengers robbers were raiding the ATM. While he was struggling to get out of it, another shot toward Peter with the remaining gun that he didn’t recognize, and the unarmed one started to run toward the one that Tony had shot out of his hand. He ducked out of the way of the blast. Peter turned around to see a big darkened spot on the wall and his eyes widened in his suit.

He opened his mouth to say something, probably along the lines of, _Ooh, that looks like it would burn a little bit_ , but then clamped his jaw shut. Maybe everyone else was right. Maybe he should just focus on the fight rather than making comments. Maybe that would have prevented other disasters.

Peter sent a web grenade at the one running to get the gun he had sent behind them and then shot a web out at the guy suspending Tony in the air as another of them shot in his direction with one of those slice-y big guns—the exact ones he wasn’t going to fuck with when he called Tony. He ducked and the slice-y gun hit the wall of the vault behind him as the suspend-y one struggled with the web now on his face, and Tony dropped back to the ground.

He just did all of that in that moment without Tony. Without Iron Man’s help. That was kind of cool of him.

Okay, he wasn’t too upset to recognize that that was really cool and he would be texting Ned the moment he got home to tell him that he saved Iron Man.

“Nice job, kid,” Tony said as he blasted the two that Peter hadn’t already webbed at once with some lower setting that obviously wasn’t meant for killing. Both of them fell back, out of it but very clearly not dead. “Web ’em up.”

Peter came forward and shot enough webs to keep them down until police could come, and did the same for the one who had, at some point, fallen down trying to get the webs off his face. The fourth one was already thoroughly wrapped up from the grenade. One started to struggle against the webbing—the one that had said something about Peter—so Tony raised his hand and sent another shot at him for good measure.

“You should be getting home,” Tony said. “It’s way past your bedtime now.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” he asked, but he followed Tony as he walked through the lobby.

“I already had Friday do it.” The two of them stepped out into the alley and Tony’s mask opened up. He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed a bit. “You did good in there, Pete.”

Peter felt a swell of pride and he rubbed the back of his neck. “It went pretty well.”

“And—I really meant it… when I said I was proud of you. For calling me.”

That felt good too, but it still didn’t stop him from wanting to just go home and lay down. It had been a bad day.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked abruptly, a frown on his face when Peter looked up at him. “You aren’t talking a mile a minute. Is what that asshole said getting to you?”

He didn’t want to say it was because he didn’t want to seem like he let all the little things get to him. He felt like that was something that the big guys didn’t do. He had this image of people like Captain America and Tony and Black Widow not worrying about the shit that they got, because they were too busy being badass and saving the world.

But Tony had told him once that it was okay if he wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t taken him up on the offer yet, because it still felt weird to call him Tony, let alone talk to him about his life, but maybe now was a good time.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Normally I’d probably let it go but… people at school were really shitty today. This guy, Flash, he gets everybody to  say stuff about me.” He shrugged.

This moment probably would have been better if they weren’t just walking down an alley behind the bank that they just saved from four seemingly inexperienced robbers. Still, hey, how many people got to say that they got to have moments with Tony Stark in alleys? Probably even fewer than the number of people who could say they got to have moments with Tony Stark at all.

Tony slung an arm around Peter’s shoulder, and he couldn’t really picture what it looked like, but he imagined it was a sight—Spider-Man and Iron Man, illuminated very dimly by a streetlamp at the end of the alley, Iron Man’s arm around Spider-Man’s shoulder.

“Peter, I don’t know if May lets you swear, but you have my permission to tell them to fuck off,” Tony told him.

Peter grinned and hung his head. “Thanks, Tony. Maybe I’ll try that.”

Tony patted his back. “Pete, you’re more of a man than Flash or these robbers will ever be. You’re a _better man_ , too.”

Peter smiled more. He didn’t know what to say, unaccustomed to the closeness he and Tony were starting to have still, but he hoped that Tony knew how much his words meant. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, you’re _Spider-Man._ That’s pretty cool,” Tony told him. “Not as cool as Iron Man, though.”

“’Course not.” Peter looked up at him. “Not yet.”

He raised his eyebrows at him. “Talk to me when you can fly. Do you need a ride home?”

Peter decided not to mention that he could fly, sort of. For a minute. Not like Tony could, but still. “No, I’ll call May and tell her I’m on my way,” he said.

Tony nodded and the mask closed over his face. “See you, then, kid.” He shot up into the air, and Peter started swinging back home.


End file.
